


What If I Never Love Again?

by MaddieFurtado



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Based on an Adele Song, F/M, Molly Hooper Plays the Piano, One-Shot, Post-Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes Has a Heart, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Fluff, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieFurtado/pseuds/MaddieFurtado
Summary: Text Copyright 2018 © Maddie Furtado"I didn't know you played, Molly.""I guess there is a lot you don't know about me, Sherlock."Sherlock frowned."Yes, so it seems..."Set right after the fall. Sherlock is recovering in his favourite bolt-hole until he get's the go ahead from Mycroft to go take down Moriarty's network. While trying to pass the time, Sherlock learns something about Molly, that he feels he's should have deduced a long time ago, but didn't. He always misses something. With this discovery, Sherlock has to face something he's been denying ever since he met the mousy pathologist.One-shot. Sherlolly.





	What If I Never Love Again?

**Author's Note:**

> Post - Reichenbach Fall/2x03, One-Shot.
> 
> Sherlolly. Songfic. Angst. Fluff. 
> 
> I love this song! Every time I hear it, I think of Sherlolly. I wanted to write this for a while. Hope you guys enjoy it!

                                                                      What I pictured while writing this one shot! Photo Credit: http://angel-in-me.tumblr.com

* * *

 

_7:30pm_

Sherlock and Molly swiftly entered her flat, with Molly holding Sherlock's weight. Both were panting heavy from running 3 blocks from Bart's. Molly helped Sherlock walk over to her couch, getting him to lay down. Toby meowed loudly, jumping off the couch and onto the floor. Sherlock groaned, while settling into the couch. Molly then quickly walked over to her kitchen, grabbing a wet cloth. She went over to Sherlock and started to wipe off the fake blood on his forehead and face.

"You'd be catching your breath by now if you didn't smoke, you know?"

Sherlock then chuckled lightly, still breathing heavy. 

Molly then got up off the floor and walked over to the door of her flat, closing it shut from earlier. She then patted Toby on the head and started to take off her jacket and shoes. With a sigh, she walked back into her kitchen, rinsing out her wash cloth.  _Thank god, it's not his real blood._

Sherlock wasn't to badly hurt from the fall. She checked him out at Bart's, quickly filling out the false paper work. His injuries consisted of bruised ribs and a terrible headache. Of course, she know he wasn't going to be totally bashed up, because of the air bag breaking his fall, but still... jumping off a building does inflict some injuries. 

Molly then grabbed a basin from her laundry room and filled it with water. She then brought it over Sherlock, who was now sitting up slightly on her couch, groaning in pain.  

"Sherlock, you should have called me."

"I'm fine." 

"You're not, actually." 

Molly noticed Sherlock was trying to take his bloodly covered scarf and jacket off. She assisted him with taking them off and then laid him back down onto her couch. 

"Just sta- don't move for a minute. I'll be right back." 

She took his silence as his reply and quickly walked to her laundry room, putting his things in the wash.

When she got back, he was exactly where she left him. Right, the water. Molly then walked back to her kitchen, grabbed some old wash clothes and made her way back to Sherlock. Dipping one of the clean wash cloths into the water, she started to clean up Sherlock's face again.

Sherlock just laid there with his eyes closed, breathing softly. 

"Sherlock?" Molly whispered.

After she didn't get an answer, she called again, louder.

"Sherlock, don't sleep. You have a concision." 

"Sleep? Since when do I sleep?" He mumbled out, with his eyes still closed.

"Since you jumped off a building, that's when." She replied.

After a minute of silence, Molly lightly hit Sherlock on his arm.

"Ow! Molly!" 

"I said don't sleep." 

Sherlock grumbled, sitting up a little straighter on the couch, immediately groaning in pain. 

"There. All clean." Molly announced, throwing the cloth into the basin of water.

She picked up the basin and brought into her kitchen.  _I'll deal with it later_.

Before going back into the living area, Molly grabbed a glass and filled it with some water. She then grabbed some pain killers from her bathroom and offered them to Sherlock.

"Here, this should help."

"Oxycontin. And why do you have these?"

"I work at a hospital. I'm able to get medication, if I need too."

"That doesn't answer my question, Molly."

"I asked for them. After you told me about what you were planning to do, I figured you'd need them." 

Sherlock looked at her with a blank expression. Like he was trying to process the information she just gave him.

"Just take the pills, Sherlock." Molly ordered. 

Not saying anything, Sherlock grabbed them from her hand, and popped them into his mouth. Molly then handed him the water, which he gladly accepted. After finishing the glass, he handed it back to Molly. She then walked back into her kitchen, and put the glass onto the counter, near her sink. She stood, placing both of her hands on the counter. Taking a deep sigh, she thought of what else she had to do before she could sit down.  _His ribs. I have to wrap them._

Molly then walked to the closet beside her bedroom door and started looking for an emergency kit. After finally finding what she needed, she made her way back to Sherlock, who was now sitting up on the couch, petting Toby.

"I-I need to wrap your ribs, Sherlock." Molly stated, nervously, pulling out the supplies she needed.

"Of course." Sherlock replied, working at the buttons of his shirt with slight difficulty.

"Here, let me." She said, before she could think. 

Already getting two undone, Molly worked on the rest, keeping her eyes on her hands. This is not the time to blush and get giddy. This is serious.

Molly could feel Sherlock's eyes on her, as she unbuttoned his shirt. She's dreamed of this moment so many times, but not in this circumstance. Now, she feels like she'll never have a chance for this dream to come true. Sherlock is  _dead_. He's going to be leaving. And this might be the last time she get's to see him. 

Finally finishing all the buttons, Molly slowly started to pull of Sherlock's shirt at his shoulders. Sherlock hissed.

"Sorry." She whispered.

Now with his shirt off, Molly got to work wrapping his ribs. Molly took her time, slowly and carefully, not wanting to hurt him further. His skin was hot to the touch, causing Molly's body to shiver. The only sounds you could hear in her flat was the ticking of the clock that hung above them and their soft breathing. 

This moment, so intimate... but now is not the time.  

* * *

 

Sherlock watched Molly with intense eyes while she wrapped his ribs. She did the job with such skill and precision. That's something he always admired about her, she is good at her job. Taking care of a body, no matter dead or alive. Treating them with respect. She's way better at that than he is. But, with John being in the picture lately, he's been making some progress.

 _Her hands are soft._  He always assumed they would be. With all the chemicals she uses at work, her hands are always dry, which causes her to moisturize excessively. He couldn't help but think about how intimate this moment was. How close they were. He can smell her. She smells like lavender and honey.... and formaldehyde. He can literally hear her heart beating fast in her chest.

No, he can't think about this. They're more important things to think about. Sentiment is not one of them. It will only slow him down. He has to move on from it. Forget about John and Mrs. Hudson... even Molly. And who knows? He might be dead in the next couple of days. REALLY dead. No point in dwelling about sentiment now. 

 _But this might be the last time you get to see her...._ John said in his mind palace.  _You're going to miss her the most, out of all of us. Don't deny it._

Sherlock started to frown.  _Shut up, Watson._

"There done." Molly said, snapping Sherlock out of his thoughts. "Just let me go grab you some ice." 

She then got up off the floor and grabbed the supplies, putting them away. 

"Uh- Molly?"

"Yeah?" She replied, not making eye contact. 

"Can you also grab me one of my t-shirts... it's mixed with the clothes I left here last time. It's much easier to slip on." He asked, re-positioning himself on the couch. 

"Sure, Sherlock." 

"Thank you, Molly Hopper."

On the way to go retrieve the ice and Sherlock's shirt, Molly smiled softly.  

* * *

_9:00pm_

Molly tapped her fingers on the tea cup she held in her hands. After checking the time, she looked over to Sherlock, who was now sleeping on her couch with a light snore. The pain killers must of helped enough to finally let him sleep. She made sure that he stayed up for a least an hour after the fall before letting him sleep because of his concussion.

She couldn't help but stare at this beautiful man before her. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. She wonders what he's dreaming about. Is he dreaming about the fall? About his friends? Is he dreaming anything at all? Is he dreaming... about her?

She shook her head quickly.

"Don't be ridiculous." She muttered to herself, making her way up from her chair.  _I'm going to go make him a sandwich, he's probably going to be hungry when he wakes._

Sherlock woke about two hours later, asking for another glass of water and some pain killers. Molly couldn't help but think about how he's not really fit yet to go take on Moriarty's network. He's weak and sore from the fall.  _Maybe staying here a couple days to recover won't hurt._

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock hummed back, his mouth full with a bite of his sandwich. 

"I was thinking... maybe you should stay here, uh - until you're healed." She stuttered, looking down into her cup of tea. 

"Well, that was the plan." He replied, sipping his tea.

"It was?"

"I thought that was implied -"

Molly looked at Sherlock, with slight annoyed expression.

"Oh, I guess it wasn't." He finished, placing his empty plate onto the coffee table in front of him. 

"It's fine. My flat is a bolt-hole of yours. I should have assumed." She replied, waving her hand, brushing away the subject. 

This is going to be a long couple of days, but she has to admit... she's pretty happy she get's to spend at least a couple of more days with him before he actually leaves her.

* * *

 Sherlock sighed deeply.  _One bloody text._

That's all he needs, then he can go and take down Moriarty's network. Damn. Waiting for Mycroft is like waiting for hell to freeze over. Sherlock sat on the couch in Molly's flat with his eyes closed and hands placed onto his lips. The only thing he could hear was the quiet breathing of Toby, sleeping next to him and the sound of water running.

Molly Hooper was in the bathroom, doing god knows what. Probably taking a shower. But at this moment, it doesn't really matter.

Sherlock scowled and abruptly pushed himself off of the couch, waking Toby. He then started to pace the flat. He's been staying at Molly's flat for about 3 days. Mycroft got a hold of him the night of the fall, around 2 in the morning. Letting Sherlock know that all the details has been set for his death, their parent's have been contacted and he told him he'd ring him when it's time to go and detangle Moriarty's web. 

While living here for the past few days with the pathologist, there have been a few awkward moments. Walking into the bathroom while she was having a shower was one of those moments. After everything, Sherlock is really grateful to have someone like Molly to be with him during this time. She's the only one who know's he's alive, other than Mycroft. She's making this whole "being dead" thing bearable and has helped tremendously.

Sherlock was up and walking around after the second day, and is now prancing around the flat, trying to get his mind in the game for the mission that lie's ahead. 

"What is taking him so long?" He muttered out-loud, pulling out his phone, checking his messages.

Suddenly, a loud sound caught Sherlock's attention. It sounded like it came from the guest room. 

Sherlock then started to walk towards the guest room of Molly's flat, hearing the floor creak underneath him with each step. He opened the door with a curious look on his face. What he saw, genuinely surprised him.

"Oh." He said with raised eyebrows.

_A petite grand piano. The smallest of horizontal pianos. Between the height of 4'5" to 4"11. Black. High Glossed finish. New._

Since when did Molly play the piano?

"Sherlock? - Oh, there you are." Molly said, opening the door the guest room a little wider.

"What are you doing in here?" She asked, walking towards the piano, bending down to pick up the pieces of sheet music that scattered all over the floor.

Finally breaking out of his thoughts, Sherlock noticed Toby walking around his legs.  _Oh, he must of made the noise, jumping off the piano._  

"Who's piano is this?"

"Mine." One sheet. 

"When did you get a piano?"

"Why does it matter? What are you doing in here, anyway?" 2 sheets. 

"You play?"

"Yes." 3.

"I didn't know you played, Molly."  _Why didn't I know she played?_  

"I guess there is a lot you don't know about me, Sherlock." 

Sherlock frowned. 

"Yes, so it seems..."

Molly walked over to the piano and placed the sheet music back onto the stand. She then walked past Sherlock with a sigh, but before she walked through the threshold, she stopped and faced Sherlock. 

"Your funeral is tomorrow. Will you still be here when I get back?"

Sherlock looked at her, blinking a few times before responding. Molly stared at him, waiting for his response.

He walked a couple of steps closer to her and said, "I won't leave you without saying goodbye."

A sad smile broke on Molly's face before leaving the guest room. Sherlock looked back over to the piano, frowning.  _I miss my violin._  He misses playing, the feel of the cold metal strings on his fingers, the smoothness of the bow. Besides, he's feeling rather emotional right now and would love to compose a piece. Well, if he can't play... maybe Molly will play for him. 

* * *

 

"Molly?"

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"You busy?" 

"Clearly washing the dishes, why?"

"I was wondering, could you play something for me?"

"Play something?"

"On the piano."

Molly quickly shut off the running tap. She turned away from her sink and looked over at Sherlock. He was leaning up against the counter in her kitchen, with his hands in his pockets. She looked at his face, trying to find something suspicious about this request. But he seemed, serious.

"You really want me to play for you?" She asked, grabbing a dish cloth to dry her hands. 

"I'd be honored to hear you play, plus it will help pass the time. Waiting for Mycroft is boring." Sherlock explained, pushing himself off the counter and walking towards Molly.

"You’d never let me hear you play." She teased, crossing her arms.  _And I probably never will._

"Molly, please."

"Fine, one song." Molly then pushed past Sherlock and walked to the guest room, with Sherlock following behind.

Sherlock entered the guest room and walked over to the guest bed that was sitting in the far corner of the room. He placed his elbows onto his knees and placed his hands to his lips.  Neither Sherlock or Molly said anything. After settling herself in her seat and organizing the sheet music, she began to play. After she was done, Sherlock spoke up.

"Fur elise? Very beautiful."

"Yup." She replied, getting up off the seat. 

"You're very good, Molly. Maybe we can compose a song together." Sherlock suggested, getting up off the bed.

"When?" She laughed bitterly. 

Sherlock frowned. Yes, he didn't think about that.... _when indeed?_ He was going to be leaving and he might not come back. Sherlock’s stomach started to turn.

"Molly. Can you play something else for me?" 

"Sherlock. I'm very b -"

"Please." 

Molly and Sherlock looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. He stared at her with such intensity, it caused Molly's heart to skip a beat. 

_He really wants me to play? I guess this time is as a good as any to tell him how I feel. I might never get this chance again._

"Okay, Sherlock." She said softly, making her way back to the piano. 

Instead of sitting back onto the bed, Sherlock made his way over to where Molly was and sat down next to her, watching Molly's hands as she started to play.  After a few notes of music, Molly started singing. 

 

_I will leave my heart at the door_

_I won't say a word_

_They've all been said before you know_

_So why don't we just play pretend_

_Like we're not scared of what's coming next_

_Or scared of having nothing left_

Sherlock frowned, watching Molly as she continued to play. 

 

_Look, don't get me wrong_

_I know there is no tomorrow_

_All I ask is_

 

Molly's heart was pounding in her chest, she felt like she was going to burst with emotion. 

 

_If this is my last night with you_

_Hold me like I'm more than just a friend_

 

Sherlock swallowed thickly. 

 

_Give me a memory I can use_

_Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do_

_It matters how this ends_

_'Cause what if I never love again?_

 

Sherlock felt like saying something to her, but didn't, deciding he didn't want to interrupt her playing. Watching her play with such emotion was breath taking and her voice?

Since when could Molly sing? He's heard her humming in the lab a few times while she's working, but he ignored it, not wanting a distraction while he was working. 

 

_I don't need your honesty_

**_"I'm married to my work..."_ **

_It's already in your eyes_

_And I'm sure my eyes, they speak for me_

_No one knows me like you do_

_**"Don't make jokes, Molly."** _

 

Sherlock frowned even more.                        

 

_And since you're the only one that matters_

_Tell me who do I run to?_

_**"**_ **_What do you need?"  "You."_ **

_Look, don't get me wrong_

_I know there is no tomorrow_

_All I ask is_

 

A mixture of guilt and other emotions started to flow through Sherlock. Listening to the words she was singing, made him feel... like he was losing a lot more than led himself on. Molly has always been a good friend to him. Allowing him access to the lab, helping him with his experiments and even now his fake death. There was no one else he could of ran to for this.

 

_If this is my last night with you_

_Hold me like I'm more than just a friend_

_Give me a memory I can use_

**_"Are you okay? Don't just say you are, because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no one can see you."_ **

**_"But, you can see me."_ **

**_"I don't count."_ **

_Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do_

_It matters how this ends_

_'Cause what if I never love again?_

 

He knows that she's always been infatuated with him, he's even used this to his advantage many times. Which is something now he deeply regrets doing. He didn't think it was anything real, Molly's unrequited feelings. He didn't know. He always misses something.

 

_Let this be our lesson in love_

_Let this be the way we remember us_

_I don't wanna be cruel or vicious_

_" **You always say such horrible things. Every time."**_

_And I ain't asking for forgiveness_

_**"I'm sorry. Forgive me."** _

_All I ask is_

 

Looking back at all the encounters they've had together, a lot of it makes sense now. He should have seen it was more. Much more. Even with him.

His jealousy when she introduced him to Jim from IT, when she walked into that Christmas party, dressed to the nines. He was jealous... he didn't want to admit it though. He was always told that sentiment was a downfall when it came to the human species. He should have realized sooner.  

 

_If this is my last night with you_

_Hold me like I'm more than just a friend_

_Give me a memory I can use_

_Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do_

_It matters how this ends_

_'Cause what if I never love again?_

* * *

 

Molly finished singing the last note then took a deep breath. She kept her eyes on the keyboard, not wanting to see Sherlock's reaction. She's played this song so many times on her own. She found that this song fitted perfectly to how she feels about him. But she has never sang this song with such emotion. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why. Molly finally lifted her hands off the keyboard and faced Sherlock. 

His face was unreadable, as always. But his eyes... something about them seemed different. They looked glossed over and full of emotion. 

"Molly, I..."

"It's okay, Sherlock." 

"No, no! It's not." Sherlock stuttered. 

Molly looked at him, tears filling her eyes.

"I meant what I said, Molly. You do count. More than you know." Sherlock said, looking down at the keys in front of him. 

"I know, I believe you." She whispered softly. 

"And I'm - really sorry. For making you think you didn't." 

"It's okay."

Sherlock and Molly looked at each other, meeting each other's eyes. So much emotion was following through Molly. Sherlock looked so sincere and ... sad. 

After a few minutes of silence, Sherlock spoke up. 

"If this is our last night... we should make it count."

"Sherlock?" Molly asked, confused.

"Do you love me, Molly? Truly?"

Molly breath hitched. Sherlock continued to stare at her, waiting for her response. 

"Yes. I've always have." 

Sherlock swallowed thickly. He then turned to face Molly, grabbing one of her hands that was sitting on her lap. 

"Molly, I know I've always said that I was married to my work... and that I didn't believe in sentiment. But after the fall, it's really helped me open up my eyes about it. If I couldn’t feel, truly feel for people. I wouldn't have jumped off that roof. I wouldn't have lied to John or Mrs. Hudson about my death. I wouldn't be wanting to go out there and put myself in danger to take down Moriarty's Network.”

Sherlock squeezed her hand before saying....

 “If I was truly a sociopath, I wouldn't be here... feeling these feelings that I feel  _right now_... for you."

A tear finally fell down Molly's cheek. Sherlock reached with his other hand, cupped her cheek and wiped it away. 

“Please don't cry, Molly."

Another tear fell, Molly looked down and sniffed, trying to keep herself together. 

"So, what’s does this mean then, for us?” Molly quietly asked, looking back at Sherlock.

Sherlock smiled softly at her, stroking her cheek. He then leaned closer to Molly, keeping his eyes attached to her.  Molly could feel his hot breath on her face. _This was it. He’s going to kiss me._ Without a second thought, both Sherlock and Molly kissed each other.

It started off light at first, both testing out the kiss. After a few seconds, Sherlock pulled away just enough to detach their lips. Suddenly, he dove back in and kissed her again. Harder this time. Molly sighed happily into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. Sherlock put both of his hands on her hips and slid her closer to him, deepening the kiss. Both Molly’s and Sherlock’s lips moved in sync with each other.

Molly couldn’t believe it! She was kissing the man of her dreams. And what a great kisser he is. She’s not surprised, really. He good at everything.

After what seems like forever, Molly pulled away, needing some air. She still had her arms wrapped around his neck and was playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. Sherlock rested his head on her shoulder while rubbing circles on her lower back. 

"I didn't know you were a fan of Adele, Molly?" 

"You never asked." She giggled.

Sherlock's phone then started to ring in his pocket. He lifted one hand off of Molly and pulled it out, answering it.

"Mycroft."

Molly sat there listening with a slight frown. This is it. He's leaving.

The sound of Sherlock clearing his throat snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Mycroft is coming by tomorrow...you'll probably won't see me leave." He muttered, lowly.

"I figured as much." Molly replied bleakly, looking at the floor.

Sherlock smiled sadly and lifted her chin up to face him.

"I told you I wouldn't leave you without saying goodbye. I meant that." He stated, pulling her face closer to his. 

They kissed again, only this time it was full of passion. Deepening the kiss right away, Sherlock pulled Molly to the guest bed with him. After a well thorough snogging, they broke apart, laying down on the guest bed together. 

"I'm never going to get tired of kissing you." Sherlock said, breathless.

Molly giggled, cuddling up to him. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. While trying to catch their breath, Molly spoke up.

"Sherlock, all I ask is that you let me know that your alive. Send a letter, a text, or a postcard. Something." She said, looking up at him.

"Of course, Adele." Sherlock teased.  "And don't worry. I'll come back."

"You better." She replied, snuggled closer to him, if that was even possible.

"I will." He replied matter-of-factly, rubbing her back lightly.

"Sherlock..." 

Molly sat up slightly, looking into Sherlock's eyes. He hummed, looking back at her, waiting for her to speak.

"Will I never  _love_ again? Will this be it, after tonight?" 

Sherlock looked at her, looking over her whole face before replying.

"Molly Hopper, you'll defiantly love again. And you're going to love me."

"I already do. I-I love you, Sherlock." 

"I love you too, Molly. Always." 

 

The end. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If there is a song you'd think should be turned into a songfic, leave a comment or drop an ask on my tumblr: maddiefurtado


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